


Steady As She Goes

by NoMiddleGround



Category: Battlestar Galactica
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, M/M, Tickling, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Wet Dream
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-20
Updated: 2016-03-10
Packaged: 2018-03-13 21:16:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,758
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3396602
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NoMiddleGround/pseuds/NoMiddleGround
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kara has cheated on Lee... again. He goes looking for some liquid sympathy, and ends up finding much more at the bottom of the bottle.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Liquid Courage

**Author's Note:**

  * For [thatchaoticart](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thatchaoticart/gifts).



“FRAK YOU.”

 

Lee stormed out of Kara’s quarters, the blood of angry men throbbing in the veins on his neck. He could not _believe_ she had cheated on him again; with a PROBIE of all people! A young pilot bucking for a promotion was one thing, but Starbuck… Had she not learned her lesson after Zak? Did she choose a Probie intentionally to hurt him?

 

_Maybe she really did die in that maelstrom._

 

He slams his fist into the nearest bulkhead, crying out in his rage. A nurse passing by recoils in fright. He glances at her apologetically and continues pacing down the corridor.

 

But no, Lee knew that not to be true. She probably wasn’t even thinking about Zak. She probably wasn’t even thinking about anything. She’s just Kara, and he’s just Lee, and this is what they do – submit themselves as willing participants in the ruthless game of emotion. Lust, love, betrayal, anger, remorse… The cycle was always the same.

 

Lee was not looking forward to the remorse.

 

His fury mellowing into sorrow, Lee shuffled into Joe’s to do what he does best – drown his feelings in booze. Surely, 5 or 12 whiskeys will make him forget who he is. Or at least give him a communicable source of his brewing self-loathing.

 

3 shots later, Lee glances around the bar to see what other world-weary souls have gathered to drink their worries away into the night. A group of young Specialists catches his eye, drinking and smoking and playing Triad at a table in the corner. Their careless joy forces Lee to smile in spite of himself. Happiness is the right of the young; for Lee, only a phantom…

 

_Come on, Apollo – dick up or shut up._

_There is no way in hell I’m taking that shot, Kara. It’s literally on fire._

_You put that glass to your lips, maybe I’ll consider putting something else to mine._

Lee was so lost in his memories that he didn’t hear Anders stumble up next to him. He therefore started in a surprise when a strong hand clapped him on the shoulder.

 

“What’s the count?”

 

As the two main men in Kara’s life, Sam and Lee had long ago agreed to keep track of the number of infidelities – like making notches in a headboard, only instead scored in liquor.

 

Lee turned to face the famed Pyramid player, smirked, and gestured with his hands the number 6.

 

Sam nodded, motioned the bartender over, and ordered 12 shots, 6 for each of them. “That’s a lot of memories to destroy – you sure you’re up for it, old man?” the athlete teased.

 

Lee, never one to shy away from a challenge, gripped the first glass and snarled “Definitely.”

 

They then began racing to the finish line, downing shots as fast as their bodies could handle. Sam slammed down his last shot glass and peered over at Lee, who was staring blankly at his #5.

 

“Come on, Adama – at least try to make it _look_ like a challenge for me!” punctuating his taunt with a jab at the lawyer’s flank. Lee yelped in surprise and curled his body inwardly at the point of attack.

 

 _Ticklish, huh?_ Sam tucked that fact away for future exploitation.

 

“Hey, at least I can afford to pay for my own poison!” Lee shot back, quickly downing the other two shots and swiveling around in his chair to lock eyes with his brawny drinking buddy.

 

They continued their boozy banter on into the night, slamming shots and swapping war stories about their mutually unfaithful lover. They chatted about their sexual conquests prior to the Cylon invasion and argued their viewpoints on the current political atmosphere. Lee asked Sam if he had always wanted to be a Pyramid player, and Sam grilled Lee on his military career and transition into the legal profession.

 

They talked and drank so long and so intensely, they didn’t register the passing of time and were therefore stunned when they heard last call at the bar.

 

“Come on, Joe – one more hour!” Lee slurred at the bartender, sloppily waving his hands in an attempt to “convince” the bartender to stay open. Joe stood his ground, so Sam and Lee stumbled out of the establishment and into the corridor.

 

“I’ve got moonshine stashed under my bunk, if you’re man enough to drink it.” Lee jeered at Sam, gripping him by the arm and dragging him back to his quarters.

 

They lurched into the lawyer’s bedroom, howling with laughter and toppling over each other in their drunken stupor. Lee seized the flask of moonshine and two shot glasses from the false bottom under his mattress, slapped them down on his bedside table, and collapsed into the nearest chair. He slid one of the glasses over to Sam, who had followed suit, and regarded the sweat-slick athlete with… Was that desire? The thought compounded the dizziness from the liquor.

 

_Man, I need to quit drinking – it’s starting to fuck with my head._

 

Lee forced himself back into the present and queried of the intoxicated jock across him: “Truth Game?”

 

Sam pounded his fist on the table in excited acceptance of the suggestion and indicated he would go first. The rules of the Truth Game were simple: you make a statement about the other person. If it’s true, they drink; if not, you drink. Not that either of them needed an excuse to drink.

 

Sam decided to go for an easy win. “You’re drunk off your ass.” He howled at what he thought was an insanely funny joke. Lee rolled his eyes and drank, already knowing his first salvo.

 

“You didn’t really want to leave Caprica.”

 

Sam stills, boring holes straight through Lee with his eyes. Slightly annoyed, but not wanting to cheat, he takes a drink, contemplating his next move.

 

“You never wanted to be a fighter pilot; you only did it to please your father.”

 

Lee tightens his grip around his glass, tensing at the sensitive statement. His father was the last person he wanted to think about at the end of a fun evening. Suddenly determined, he takes a drink and decides that if Sam can play dirty, so will he.

 

“You don’t really love Kara; she’s just better than being alone.”

 

“Yea, well at least I know how to fuck a girl – she said you don’t even know how to get it up.”

 

They fly at each other, knocking over the table and crashing onto the cold metal floor in a violent but playful wrestling match. Lee may have years of military combat training on his side, but Sam grew up in the streets – he knows how to scrap better than any of them. After an intense struggle, Sam manages to grapple Lee into submission, pinning his hands under his athletic body. Lee struggles and wriggles in Sam’s grip, but can’t escape.

 

“Say it. Say ‘I’m Lee Adama and I can’t fuck girls.’” Sam mutters hotly into Lee’s ear.

 

“Fuck you!” Lee snipes back.

 

“Have it your way.” Sam then uses his free hand to begin squeezing Lee’s side, tickling him mercilessly. Lee screams before collapsing into unrestrained laughter, begging Sam for mercy in-between his squeals. Sam, having far too much fun torturing his helpless victim, scribbles his strong fingers all along Lee’s ribs, ravaging his sensitive skin.

 

“Say it or I’ll never stop.” He underlines the comment by digging his index finger into Lee’s navel, making the smaller man buck even harder.

 

“I’M LEE ADAMA AND I CAN’T FUCK GIRLS! PLEASE GODS STOP!” shrieked Lee, hoping Sam would make good on his word. With one last pinch at his love handle, Sam ceases his torture. But yet, something in him still doesn’t want to let Lee go, so he lays there – Lee’s heart beating so fast he can feel it in his own chest, the rhythmic cadence of Lee’s heavy breathing coursing through his own like high tide…

 

“Sam-”

 

Sam quickly puts a finger to Lee’s lips, not ready to hear the words. So they lay there, body pressed to body, until succumbing to exhaustion.

 

And so they awake the next morning, limbs entangled in sweaty limbs, unsure but strangely content.


	2. Morning Glory

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lee shares some dreams - and some reality - with Sam, and Sam... Is an asshole.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am absolutely obsessed with these two, someone please delete me, I must be stopped.

Lee awoke to the sound of gulls singing overhead. Blinking heavily against the blazing sunlight, he turned on his side and locked eyes with Sam. 

"What are you doing?" Lee muttered sleepily. 

"Watching you sleep."

"Get a day job."

Sam chuckled as he leaned back on his elbows, staring out across the endless cascade of water. 

"Keeping you out of trouble is more than enough."

Lee snorted in derision as he stretched post-nap. 

"How long was I out?"

"'Bout an hour."

"An hour!?" Lee exclaimed, startled. "I could have burnt to a crisp! Why didn't you wake me up?"

"Because you're so pretty when you're sleeping."

Lee instantly blushed scarlet. 

"Why Mr. Adama, is that a sunburn I spy or are you actually blushing?" 

"Frak you, Anders."

"At least take me to dinner first."

From there, things degenerated quickly into a playful brawl, the two supposed adults throwing fistfuls of sand at each other and screaming like schoolchildren. Lee eventually chased Sam into the ocean, where salt water became the new weapon of choice for the two combatants. They splashed, dunked, and otherwise defaced each other's bodies until they were absolutely unrecognizable. 

Soon, playfulness melted into passion, and the two became entangled in the dizzying grip of love, kissing and biting and pawing each other like warring grizzly cubs. All the while, Sam couldn't stop saying his name. "Lee... Lee... Lee..."

"LEE."

The lawyer bolted upright to find Anders and Kara bent over him with expressions of grave concern. 

"What happened?" Lee muttered sleepily. 

"You passed out drunk on my floor and wouldn't wake up. We've been trying to wake you for over an hour." Kara explained worriedly. 

"I've been throwing water on your face, but I guess you just need a good, firm yelling to." Anders quipped, back to his stoic, sarcastic self. "Must have been some damn dream."

"What the frak are you talking about?" Lee rebutted, confused. 

Sam simply cut his eyes to Adama's midsection, where he was sporting quite an impressive erection. 

"FRAK YOU!" Lee screamed as he bolted out the room, flush with embarrassment. 

"At least take me to dinner first!" Sam called out after him as he ran away. 

Lee knew it would be a cold day in hell before he ever lived this day down. And somewhere, deep inside his soul, he hoped he never would.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For Christina, my love always.


End file.
